Weak
by unset city
Summary: Christine has always been weak; even she knows that she is. So in an attempt to make things right with the man she left behind and to gather the courage she needs, she returns to him once more, as passionate as ever and descends once more into the darknes


**Weak**

Chapter One: Cold

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera. _

_This story is based on the ALW world with some elements of Leroux_

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I have always been cowardly; for all my years in existence I could never once, it seems, muster up the strength that I need to overcome my battles, that courage that all crave to find. I am convinced, nearly 100 convinced at this point actually, that I will never in my life possess any semblance of strength, of courage and bravery.

I have always been pathetic; it's painfully obvious, so obvious in fact that it can be seen in every feature of my face. The softness of my features, the naivety that so thoroughly surrounds my wide eyes, eyes that I can never seem to get to look anything but childish. I have never done anything for myself, fought for myself; there has always been someone in my life to lift me up, to love me—even if that love was a little too extreme. There was always someone, and even now there is, in this dark mansion packed full of baubles and those too eager to serve. I was never alone…

I have always been a child; a weak, frightened child, who could not find a place in this world, was lost inside of the bowls of the Opera House. And had it not been for the dark man that had led me through the trials and tribulations that that life provided, I surely would not be where I am now, the soon to be Comtess of Raoul, the Victome de Chagny. His bride, his childhood sweetheart, his friend…

…The woman he would manipulate, confine and control…

I love Raoul; despite it all, the controversy surrounding our engagement and the ridicule from the press, he will forever be my childhood, the one I am destined to be with…

Wouldn't he?

There was no one else but Raoul; that was what I had been trying to convince myself of these past few days, locked up in this great mansion that was to be my permanent home in only a few short weeks. Raoul had always been there for me; he was supportive, charming, rich, handsome…The classic knight in shining armor who had rescued me from the bowels of hell, from the deadly darkness.

But there was something wrong with that, something not quite right with the picture. I had tried for weeks now to figure it out and now, as I stood in front of the large window staring out at the setting sun, she knew what it was: My feelings.

I was not happy that Raoul rescued now, not happy at all. I had not wanted her knight in shining armor to arrive when I had been lost in that darkness, had not wanted to leave the dark realms that only _he _controlled. _Him_, the prince of the darkness, the phantom that rotted away in despair and wretchedness, the man who never allowed himself to feel the light of day. The man who was, and always would be, my Angel of Music, my muse, my deity in human flesh—no matter how disfigured that flesh was. Erik…

He haunted me, his shadow, it seemed, hounding me as of late. His voice, that ethereal voice could not leave my mind, that deep baritone pounding fiercely with the beats of my heart, possessing me slowly by slowly, day by day. And I was…afraid…

I should not be thinking of him, this man whose heart I had so brutally broken, especially now that I had Raoul. But that was the funny thing, wasn't it? Now that I had Raoul, the other man was on my mind, mocking me; I just could never rest…

Something had to be done soon, I knew. I could not seem to get Erik out of my head and it was wrong, so wrong, and had to be fixed. And as to how I would fix it…

The sun was nearly completely set now; I felt my heart begin to race in anticipation. As soon as the darkness stretched all the way across the land in an embrace I would make my move. I would have to leave before Raoul got home, and only then; I can not risk him seeing me, or hearing me sneak off in the middle of the night.

And if he knew where I planned to go…Well, I would be locked up in this fancy cage of a room until he was sure he could trust me again, which would not be, conveniently, until after the wedding. How very like Raoul…

I already had everything I would take, which was really nothing at all except for the burden of my own feelings, and the fear at what I plan on doing. It had been six months since I had been there last, six whole months since that dreadful ordeal in which the only home I had known had come falling down in a column of flames. In in the ashes that had been the aftermath I had left him, alone in the lair to await his death. What a cruel person I am…

I had never considered myself to have a mean bone in my body until I had met Erik, the man I had so regrettably broken. He had been my Angel of Music; given me everything—including Raoul, incidentally—and how had I repaid him? With absolutely nothing at all, except…

Except…

Those two forbidden kisses. Those two earth shattering, stunning kisses that had taken my breath away, robbed my soul of all thought and made it take flight into a place I had never known of, a place I had never discovered, not even with Raoul. And it had been so intoxicating, to float on the clouds with him, to feel those soft, trembling lips against mine, igniting my soul…

Even now it made me shiver, and I cursed myself for it. Raoul's ring was heavy on my left hand, a constant reminder of what—and who—I had chosen, and who I…

Oh God…The sun was completely gone, the darkness pulsating around me, when I began to realize the truth I had for so long denied. I regretted him; I regretted Raoul. I did not want to; Raoul had given me almost as much as Erik, so it made no sense that I should think Erik superior, and yet…

Those kisses, those two wonderfully wretched things, had been my end. His lips had taken my soul, and I knew that I could never get it back. In fact…I wondered if I had ever even had it to begin with, or if he had possessed it this whole time, kept it locked away with him in that darkness that was oh so calming and seducing…

I shivered again, raising a shaking hand to press it to the cold glass as though through it I could touch the darkness outside, the world that belonged solely to him. Tonight was the night to end her pain, to end her ceaseless doubts.

The Opera House, though ruined, was still standing; or at least, the cellar still was. The government was talking about rebuilding it, but the hype of the Opera Ghost was too great; after all, the phantom's body—if he really was a person as I knew him to be—had never been found, so it was assumed that he had gotten away.

And I thanked God everyday that he had gotten away… My purpose and going back to the Opera House, descending back down into the cellars, was purely, horridly, for my own reasons only. I was aware that him seeing me would set him off, crush him even more, and yet…I had to see him, to know that he was alive and well and breathing, safe even if I had torn out his heart.

And maybe, if I worked up the courage, I could apologize to him even if apologies did sound so weak, and as if there was anything I could do at all to make things right.

I just…I just could not survive without my angel, without that haunting music that burned my soul and sent my passion spiraling out in the most loveliest of voices. I was a singer at heart, and although Raoul would never agree, I knew that I had to do this for myself, for both of us—my angel and I.

And so, wrapping my cloak tighter around myself I stared out at the darkness one final time before turning, and with quiet light steps began to creep from my room.

The winding, oak staircase was perhaps the worse part; once or twice the steps squeaked, causing me to look around frantically for anyone. But no, I was alone; the servants all thought I would spend the night up in my room awaiting Raoul as I usually did, and were all having a jolly good time and rest in Raoul's lounge, some of them even probably helping themselves to his liquor. It was the perfect night to escape…

I told myself that I would be back by daybreak as I slipped outside into the rather frigid night air, and shivered as a particularly cold gust of air sliced right through my heavy black cape and sent my chestnut curls flying in what seemed to be a warning sign, as though Erik himself were reaching out to me to tell me to turn back.

But I would not be undeterred.

In the stables I saddled up my dapple gray mare all by myself, feeling a strange satisfaction at doing so. Maybe, just maybe, I was not so useless after all…

It was a struggle though, I'll admit, for me to climb up into the saddle with all my skirts. I had never liked the fancy dresses Raoul had always bought me, and now I had ye another reason to dislike them even more.

By the time I managed to get arranged on the saddle and wrap the cloak completely around my shivering form, I exited the stable to find that it was starting to snow.

The white flakes fell faster and faster around me in a wild flurry as I set out, shielded only by my thin cloak, towards town, knowing that the Opera House was at least three miles from the mansion. It was going to be a long, bitter ride…

As the snow grew thicker and thicker, partially obscuring my view, I knew that the wisest option would be to turn back. Beneath me my mare whinnied nervously, dancing a little as she trotted along from nerves.

But as I mentioned before, I was not to be stopped. This trip had to be done, I knew, and it was already beginning; now that I knew who I would find at the end of all the cold, all the stinging flakes of snow, I could not get myself to even consider turning back. I was past the point of no return…

But I am weak, so tragically frail that no matter my spirit my body will always succumb to it all. And so I began to feel the pain, feel the ice burn into me like fire, and whimpered, eventually having to grit my teeth and shut my eyes to the assault of the air and the swirling, blinding snowflakes.

My heart was beating lethargically in my chest after awhile, and through a haze that had nothing to do with the snow, I noted that my breathing seemed…slower, my limbs numb. I was immune to it all, lost in a sea of swirling white and darkness, and the only thing that kept me warm was the thought of my angel's warm lips…

I do not know how long I traveled; I do not know anything beyond the fact that I made it. Or at least, I made it to the charred grand front entrance.

I fell from my horse to the ground in a ball, the snow that was quickly collecting on the ground stinging my entire side beneath me. Everything stung as I began to pull myself along that stinging snow, my vision blurring with tears that stayed frozen in my glazed eyes as I reached desperately for that front door, the action making the darkness grow…

My body was failing, my mind succumbing. I wanted to scream but snow clogged my throat, wanted to stand but I could no longer feel my legs. I was helpless, alone, and weak, terribly weak, as the winter weather ate away from me, destroying me all around…

But I would not go down completely without a fight. With a final burst of strength I had always reserved just for Erik, I slammed my hand against the door in a resounding slap, Erik's name on my lips as I slumped down in the snow and allowed the ice to infect me, yielding to the darkness… The darkness only he would know…

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__Alright, so that was my first Erik/Christine fic; what did you think? Do not worry, if I decide to write another chapter if this get's good reviews, I promise you Erik will be in it. He's going to be so fun to write! _

_Well, please do review and let me know what you think! I like where this story's going so far, so… Just review!. _


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